


Stakin' Out Turkey

by StrippedDowntotheBone



Category: Knockaround Guys (2001)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-01 23:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19187305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrippedDowntotheBone/pseuds/StrippedDowntotheBone
Summary: Basically the scene in the movie, but written out in story-form.





	Stakin' Out Turkey

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually the edited version of my original story "In The Motel Room". I took the sex out of it and added in more love and emotion. Honestly, now that I'm more familiar with the movie and characters, I have difficulty imagining the two engaging in sexual intercourse during any time in Montana. Both of them are very "we need to get this done, no funny business" so I can't really imagine either of them deciding "hey, let's get freaky" when Matty's father's, Teddy's and all four of their lives are at risk. I feel it would be more realistic without the sex, and to just add in more of how Matty and Taylor feel for one another on an emotional level. 
> 
> I also made a lot of errors in the original story. I like didn't know what a butterball was and I didn't know what Gristedes was. I didn't realize Taylor was resting his hand in an ice bucket, it was all a mess. Honestly it's pretty horrible. But I did write it back in 2011, so there's that. I've learned a lot since then. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy, and feel free to leave a comment.

Matty and Taylor shared a motel room; there were two beds, and both were sitting down on them, watching TV (Jimmy Houston Outdoors); Matty with a styrofoam cup of coffee in his hand and Taylor with an aching fist in a bucket of ice and a cigarette between his other fingers. It was a no-smoking room, but Taylor didn't care. He wasn't really the rule-following type.

On the TV, Jimmy Houston was sitting up against a tree, using a caller to entice a nearby turkey.

"Look at these fuckers!" Taylor said, amusement in his voice. Matty smiled.

"Sittin' out in the woods all day... stakin' out a turkey," Taylor continued, looking over at Matty. Matty chuckled softly then sipped on his coffee.

"What do they need to do that for? Go to fuckin' Gristedes, get a butterball!" Taylor ended. Gristedes was a supermarket back in New York.

Matty laughed out loud. He leaned his head back against the wall, smiling from ear to ear. Taylor had a way of easing his nerves, of calming him. He'd lost half a million dollars, his father and Teddy's lives were at risk, but even then Taylor could make him laugh. He felt comfortable with Taylor; he felt safe.

With hunting in mind, Matty was reminded of an incident, back when he was just eleven years old. It was something he'd kept in for years; he'd never been one to open up, and often just repressed or avoided that which had traumatized him. But Taylor had a way of lowering his walls. Sitting in that motel room with him, Matty felt safe enough to get it off his chest. He knew he could trust Taylor; he'd known him his entire life, they'd grown up together, and Taylor had never once gone against him. He could be vulnerable with Taylor.

"You know, we were gonna go once," Matty said, quietly, and he looked over at Taylor as he waited for his friend's reaction. Matty was going out on a limb here, opening up, exposing his most painful memories.

Taylor looked over at Matty, smirking slightly, and seemingly receptive. So Matty continued.

"November 14th, 1986," Matty said. He remembered it like yesterday, down to the day of the week; a Friday.

"Come on," Taylor replied, disbelievingly; and he knew exactly what Matty was talking about. Matty didn't have to be specific with Taylor; the guy could practically read his mind after all the time they spent together. Taylor knew Matty was referring to his father.

"Yeah. Just me and my pop, goin' upstate for deer..." Matty said, looking away as he remembered the plans they'd had. He remembered making them the night before; a time before his father was cruel and cold. A time before his father would mock and belittle him, treat him like he was inadequate.

Matty's smile slowly disappeared as he stared at the TV, imagining that he and his father were in Jimmy Houston's place. What would it have been like, camping out up north with his pop? Cooking whatever it was they managed to catch over an open fire? Just the two of them, talking, bonding; spending quality time together, like any regular father and son?

"I remember I was gonna get woken up at like 4:15 in the morning," Matty continued, rubbing his leg; fidgeting as he was reminded of that night, of the feelings associated with it. He looked over at Taylor, who was still looking back, listening intently.

"Knock came alright. Whole fuckin' door came off its hinges," Matty said, looking over at the door to the motel room as he remembered the way the men had woken him up that morning, tearing him out of sleep by busting his door down and barging into his room, shouting for Benny Chains, scanning his entire room from top to bottom. Ripping his covers off him, looking under the bed, in the closet. Matty was still dealing with sleep related issues because of that night and he was bitter; not only because of that, but because they'd been the ones to take his father from him.

"OC Task Force, Feds, NYPD. Yeah. Weren't takin' any chances with Benny Chains', that night..." Matty quietly added, looking down at his lap. His sight blurred as he was brought back to that morning; he remembered the look on his father's face as the man was hand cuffed and taken forcefully out of the house. After having lost his mother to Cancer, Matty's father was his only remaining parent, and to have him taken away, being unable to do anything, had torn him apart.

That feeling of sadness, horror, and dread came back full force. Matty remembered having to move all his belongings over to Teddy's place; having to live with his uncle for a long six years, unable to do anything but stew in his own anger and misery.

Taylor kept his eyes on Matty, his brows creased sympathetically. He clenched his jaw and turned his head back to the TV. He knew what it was like, losing a father; his own had been murdered, shot to death, back when he was ten years old. He understood that anger, the misery, the sadness and horror. It was part of the reason Matty and Taylor got along so well; they'd experienced similar pains, being sons of mobsters.

"You know, I always wondered..." Matty began. "What it would have been like... if we had left the night before, you know...? At least had those couple days together... before he went in," the black-haired man ended. His long-lashed blue eyes stayed glued to the TV, watching but not watching, as he thought back to the day his father was released. Benny had gone in a different person than he'd come out. He'd hardened, and his view of reality had been distorted; he no longer understood how to be caring or compassionate. And he didn't care for spending quality time with Matty; in fact, there were times that Matty felt his father was resentful over the fact that he hadn't avenged him by killing Bobby Boulevard in Vesuvio's basement that night in '87.

Taylor looked over at Matty, heart hammering as he watched his friend tense his jaw and stare, blindly. There was a hollowness on his face, a numbness in his eyes. Taylor knew how much the incident had affected Matty, he knew all too well how he was feeling, and Taylor wanted to take his pain from him. He wanted to distract Matty from the memories, to make light of the situation. So as soon as Jimmy Houston removed his face mask and revealed his eccentric blonde bob-cut, Taylor spoke.

"So this coulda been you, huh?" he teased, in an effort to make Matty laugh; gesturing toward the man on the screen. And it worked. The somber look on Matty's face transformed back into a sincere smile as he laughed.

"Yeah. The hat, the face-net, the whole deal," he replied, looking at Taylor. Taylor looked back, and he smiled with Matty; brown eyes meeting blue. There was a closeness, an understanding, that one another felt as their eyes met. There was also something else; there was love. The feelings were enough to overwhelm the two, and both looked away. Taylor looked down at his hand while Matty looked down at his coffee. They looked back at each other only a moment later; the look said many things that neither of them could find the words to say.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Matty and Taylor looked at each other, though this time, it was less personal, and more of a question; is that who we think it is? Matty rested his coffee on the night stand between them as he stood up and walked over to the door. Taylor sat up straight, keeping his eyes on the door and monitoring the situation as Matty opened it and revealed a battered Gordie Brucker. Taylor stood up from the bed and stepped over to behind Matty, protectively.

"Found out what you told me to," Brucker said, looking from Matty to Taylor, nervously. He'd found out who stole the half a million.

Matty's entire demeanor changed; the vulnerable, sensitive man he'd been only moments before was gone. His walls were back up, and he was cold, calm, and collected.

"Good," Matty replied, and his voice was deeper. He looked the man up and down, taking in the damage Taylor had done, and showing no remorse for it. "Who are they and where can I find 'em?"

"They go by Decker and Teeze. Kids. Live over at 118 2nd Ave," replied Brucker.

Matty looked at Brucker for a minute, then nodded and shut the door in the man's face without another word.

The End.


End file.
